I, Lennon Part 5: The Long Dark Knight of the Soul
Hugh McDonald was only the first. Something had got into Rangers and suddenly anyone criticising Kyle Lafferty which let's face it, was every journalist on the orders of Lawwell, received a visit that night from the bat man. The next day I was in Lawwell's office, briefing him on what I'd found on Lennon so far; he was in a foul temper and when I first came through the door he was kicking chairs, tables and Tommy Gemmell around the room.
'Who the hell does Martin Bain think he is, me?' he was screaming as he helped Gemmell out of the room with his boot.
'You must admit Peter, this isn't like Rangers at all, not their style,' I offered but he turned quickly and glared at me.
'"Peter"? "Peter"? Herr Lawwell to you, cretin and if I want any advice on Rangers I certainly won't ask a rosary tinted oaf like you' and he aimed his horse whip at me but I ducked just in time and it swooshed over my head. This just made him more angry so I made myself scarce just as he was pulling a Luger from his desk drawer.
I laid low for the rest of the day before fetching up at Radio Clyde where I'd been invited to lay into Rangers by Peter Maguire. Maguire looked nervous when I arrived and he sat there in the sound booth with the mechanical clown that is Derek Johnston switched off so the place was in silence.
'What's up Peter?' I asked and Maguire went deathly white and glanced over my shoulder. I turned and there, inches from my face was the black hooded face of Stuart Cosgrove. He said nothing then turned and was gone.
'I think that was a reminder,' said Maguire. 'I hear he's been silently assaulting anyone daring to criticise Rangers this week, perhaps we'd better go easy on them today, eh?'
The poltroon within me agreed, why my knees were still shaking from the fright of finding him behind me just then so what else could I do?
Then the show began and something strange happened - we immediately fired into Rangers and spent the whole night attacking Lafferty. It seems that we just can't help ourselves!
'Who the hell does Martin Bain think he is, me?' he was screaming as he helped Gemmell out of the room with his boot.
'You must admit Peter, this isn't like Rangers at all, not their style,' I offered but he turned quickly and glared at me.
'"Peter"? "Peter"? Herr Lawwell to you, cretin and if I want any advice on Rangers I certainly won't ask a rosary tinted oaf like you' and he aimed his horse whip at me but I ducked just in time and it swooshed over my head. This just made him more angry so I made myself scarce just as he was pulling a Luger from his desk drawer.
I laid low for the rest of the day before fetching up at Radio Clyde where I'd been invited to lay into Rangers by Peter Maguire. Maguire looked nervous when I arrived and he sat there in the sound booth with the mechanical clown that is Derek Johnston switched off so the place was in silence.
'What's up Peter?' I asked and Maguire went deathly white and glanced over my shoulder. I turned and there, inches from my face was the black hooded face of Stuart Cosgrove. He said nothing then turned and was gone.
'I think that was a reminder,' said Maguire. 'I hear he's been silently assaulting anyone daring to criticise Rangers this week, perhaps we'd better go easy on them today, eh?'
The poltroon within me agreed, why my knees were still shaking from the fright of finding him behind me just then so what else could I do?
Then the show began and something strange happened - we immediately fired into Rangers and spent the whole night attacking Lafferty. It seems that we just can't help ourselves!
posted by The Secret Diary of Graham Spiers | 02:42
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